By Hannah Andrews
“If you want a Vegas wedding or the chance to file a restraining order, date an adopted person, or—really what I am saying: me.”
(Anne Heffron in You Don't Look Adopted)

This month’s theme is “Love, Relationships, and Intimacy,” and lucky for you, dear reader, I’m pretty much an expert. Thanks to adoption, I gained valuable insight into the human condition. From day one, I learned excellent attachment skills, including and in no particular order: hang on for dear life, leave before they leave you, and if ever things are going “too well” or when in doubt (and I’m ALWAYS in doubt) throw a wrench in it all—ASAP.

Sabotage equals survival.

Yes, I’m being facetious. Kinda.

by Hannah Andrews
Our theme at AKA all month has been, “Identity and Belonging.” It could be my theme for the year. Maybe several years. Identity and belonging (or lack thereof) seep into every aspect of my existence as a Baby Scoop Era, closed records, mixed-race adoptee.

So here’s my two-cents, beginning literally with my two cents.

by Janice Jones
My concept of family has always been different than most. I was adopted as an infant, and I knew I was adopted from a very early age. I was aware that while I legally belonged to my (adoptive) parents, I wasn’t related to them—biologically.

My parents had several close friends whom I loved dearly. I grew up addressing them as “Aunt” and “Uncle.” My mother taught me to do this but stressed that they weren’t my real aunts and uncles. The real ones were her and my father’s siblings. This distinction did not matter to me because I knew that I wasn’t related to the real ones, either. Also, I saw a lot more of the honorary ones, than I did the real ones, so the honorary ones were more real to me.

I thought of my father’s father as my grandpa. He spent time with me, and we had fun together. My father’s mother died years before I was born. Yet my father referred to her as my grandma. This made me angry, as I felt that she was no more my grandma than any stranger on the street. I believe I felt anger because his insistence that she was my grandmother seemed a denial on his part that I had a history before I was adopted.

While my parents drew a sharp distinction between “us” and “them,” I thought of “them” as my big human family.

I always longed to be a part of that bigger world because somewhere, out there, were my real relatives.


About the Author: Janice Jones is a US domestic adoptee born in Ohio in 1949. She said it took her until the age of 77 to be able to write about her adoption experience, about how adoption colored every aspect of her life. “Writing my story is the bravest and most healing thing I have ever done,” she said. She encourages other adoptees to share their stories in whatever ways they can.

Janice’s memoir is: “Dr. Beare's Daughter: Growing Up Adopted, Adored, and Afraid.” Here is the link to the Amazon listing:https://a.co/d/cwFL7Aq

Jan is reading and speaking Monday, January 27th at a virtual event for our friends Adoption Network Cleveland. Attendance is free and open to all, but pre-registration is required. If you’d like to attend, click here Adoption Network Cleveland Calendar of Events and Programs

AKA invites you to hear from members of the extended family of adoption and the surrounding community.  While we take great care in curating the content, please know:

• ​the opinions of the authors we invite to share are theirs and theirs only 
• some of the content shared here may be emotionally activating depending on your personal journey - therefore, please be sure to practice self care and seek the support you may need 
• If you would like to be a featured guest-blogger please submit your piece for consideration to [email protected]

by Lake Calder
​I wonder…do all parents think their kids are going to get married and have kids of their own to spend holidays with? Is that just part of the parental mentality? Most parents expect their children to outlive them. Sadly, that isn’t always the case. Research reveals that the risk of suicide attempt is approximately 4 times greater in adoptees compared with nonadoptees (American Academy of Pediatrics, 2013). I’m an overdose survivor, and for many years, my parents had reason to fear they might outlive me.
Adoptees that do outlive their parents might still not go on to have children or families of their own.
What if the child/future adult has a physical/mental illness or disability that precludes them from having a partner or children? What if they had a bad experience with their family and don’t want to risk re-creating it? Who will they have to spend holidays and special occasions with? Will they have cousins, siblings, parents’ friends, their friends’ kids, community?